


Pas De Deux

by StarsGarters



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Short & Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 18:59:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3260855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarsGarters/pseuds/StarsGarters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes a dance is only a dance...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pas De Deux

The studio was empty and the music soft. The sound of her feet barely audible on the wood floor as she worked through her positions, the patterns familiar to him from months of observing her. First. Second. Third. The grace of her form soothed his mind. She looked delicate in her black leotard, her red hair bound back in a messy bun. The Black Widow, Natasha Romanov, _Tasha_. 

Maybe this time, she wouldn't spot him in the shadows. The moment the thought crossed his mind, she smiled and looked directly at him. "Need to adjust your arm again, Barnes. It's whirring." Not even a close contest. 

Bucky Barnes chuckled and stepped into the light. "It wasn't just the arm, was it?" He knew for a fact that his arm was in perfect working order, no whirring or buzzing to give away his position. She was just  _that_ good and the day that he could sneak up on her was far in the future. She'd probably shoot him if he did. It was worth the risk.

"No." She stretched against the barre, her limber limbs extended and flexed. "I know you like to watch me." He did. He liked the way her normally guarded face softened as she danced, it was like the rare moments in bed when she totally surrendered to pleasure. She looked at him with a challenge in her eyes and smiled. 

He stepped behind her, clad in a grey tank and loose darker grey sweatpants. He ran his flesh fingers down her leotard-clad flank, enjoying the taut spandex that clung to her curves, "I'm _so_ easy to figure out." Barnes kissed the base of her neck, the wispy baby hairs tickled his lips. 

"Practically an open book." She leaned into his arms and touched his stubbled cheek. They watched each other in the mirrors and swayed gently to the music. 

"What language am I in?" He whispered into her ear and then spun her around to face him. He led an easy dance, a simple box-step that he learned back in Brooklyn from his sister. Every man who wanted to find a lady knew how to dance. He twirled her and then caught her in a dip, slowly pulled her up against his body. 

She walked her fingers up his chest and flicked the metal of his shoulder, making it _ping_. "Sometimes you're Russian, but I think tonight? English." In their most quiet, intimate moments she would slip into Russian, cooing in filthy sweet epithets. 

He released her and she returned to the barre, effortlessly pivoting and extending her leg. Silently, he watched her every move in adoration. He felt vaguely guilty because he enjoyed it so much and so much of it wasn't her choice. 

He coughed. "Do you love _this_?" He waved his hand in a general gesture of movement.

She tracked him in the mirror. "Why do you ask?" Another graceful bend that made his heart climb up in his throat. Someone as beautiful as she was shouldn't exist. Someone as strong and powerful as she was shouldn't want  _him._

"Because of what they did to you. In the Red Room." He licked his lips. 

She spread her arms wide and smiled. " _This_ is for me. They may have trained me to be an assassin, but they didn't give me my love of dance. That's all mine." She turned and stepped close to him. She flicked his metal arm again. "Do you love _this_?" She looked up at him, the challenge back in her eyes and a smirk on her lips. 

He curled his metal arm around her, pulled her close and kissed her sweetly. After a few moments pause, he answered. "It's a part of me. It lets me do this." He cupped her chin and kissed her again. "How could I hate this?" He said after they parted lips and clung to each other's forms.

"точно." _Exactly._ Looked like it was going to be a Russian night after all. 

 


End file.
